Safest Solution
by LeHedgehog
Summary: Hermione and Sirius are forced to get engaged as Minister for Magic Dolores Umbridge unveils her new Marriage Law.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first marriage law fic, please let me know what you think. It's going to be a bit smushy, and also is rated M for future scenes to come. I do like a lot of smut in my stories so be forewarned. Also my spelling, use of punctuation and love of tangents may irritate some **

Sirius Black inhaled deeply on the cigarette he held between his fingers, pausing for a moment to savour the burning feeling of the smoke in his lungs, before exhaling -his head resting on the brick wall behind him. He looked skywards at the grey ceiling of cloud that hung low over London, it was March and though there were signs of the approaching spring, today the weather was cold and forbidding. 'Pathetic fallacy', he thought wryly to himself, taking a last drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out on the paving slabs that covered the small back garden of Grimauld Place.

He wasn't a heavy smoker; it was a muggle affectation he had developed as a wayward youth to irritate his parents – though one which he found hard to shake, especially when he needed to think. Tucking the pack of Marlboro's and lighter into his pocket, Sirius sighed, turned his back on the neglected garden and made his way through the back door which led directly into the warmth of the kitchen.

His oldest living friend Remus Lupin was seated at the kitchen table, where Sirius had angrily left him a few minutes before.

'Calmed down?' Remus asked kindly, though the corners of his mouth seemed to be trying to hold back a smile.

Sirius nodded sheepishly and slipped into the chair opposite his friend. 'Sorry for kicking off at you Mooney old pal,' he muttered, conjuring a bottle of Firewhiskey and pouring two very generous measures. 'You just took me by surprise with your proposition.'

Remus nodded his head in understanding, and sighed deeply. 'I know it's not the most ideal idea Sirius – but given the situation it's the only safe solution.'

Sirius laughed and downed his whiskey in one fast gulp. 'It's a dire situation indeed when I'm considered the safest solution.' He grinned and Mooney smiled back sadly, unable to argue.

The Order of the Phoenix were gathered around the same table in Grimauld Place a few hours later. Everyone was speaking at once; some were speaking in low rational voices – others like Molly Weasley were becoming increasingly high pitched in their agitation.

Hermione sat quietly, feeling a little removed from the proceedings. Unlike most of her fellow Order members the news of the new laws that had come into place would affect her directly. There was a gnawing feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, and her limbs felt as though they were made of lead. Not for the first time that night she noticed Sirius casting a worried glance her way, she smiled weakly at him and was about to speak when -

'Silence' Kingsley Shacklebot called from his place at the top of the table and immediately all those gathered fell quiet at his booming command.

'Thank you,' Kingsley said with a gracious smile. 'Now the first order of business is to discuss this news'. He threw a copy of The Daily Prophet on the table – but nobody bothered to reach for it, they had read it so many times they could quote it by heart.

'The Ministry has been threatening something like this for months – and when Umbridge took office as Minister she made sure it was the first law she passed.'

The members of the order all scowled at the mention of Dolores Umbridge's name. With Voldemort pulling the strings from behind the scene at Ministry the vile woman had risen to the position of Minister of Magic , and was hell bent on rectifying 'The Mudblood' issue.

'I just don't understand her reasoning though,' Ron interjected angrily, 'Surely the last thing she wants is muggle borns marrying pure blood?'

Kingsley shook his head, 'That's where you're wrong Ron. With Hogwarts no longer being allowed to accept muggle borns there's been a rapid decline in the numbers of wizards being trained. Voldemort knows we need to keep producing children or as a race we'll die out – so his solution is simple. Have pure bloods marry muggle borns so that the 'mud ' in the blood of their children is diluted.' He wrinkled his nose in distaste before continuing, 'It also allows for the Ministry to keep tighter control on muggle borns. Their wands are to be entrusted to their pure blood partners, who have a deciding say on when - or if - the muggle born is to be allowed to use their magic.'

Hermione paled at this. Since Voldemort's return to power, many of her basic rights had been taken away. Though she had set records with the grades she had achieved in her N.E.W.T's the new laws banning muggle borns from entering into positions of responsibility or authority had meant that she had to give up on her hopes of becoming a healer and instead had taken a position working for Fred and George in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The thought of now having to ask permission to use her wand was too much, and she hastily wiped away the silent tears that fell from her eyes. She gathered her composure quickly, hoping that nobody had noticed but she caught Sirius's eye, and again saw the look of concern on his face.

'What we need to do now is ensure the safety of the members of the order that this affects,' Kingsley continued, and all eyes turned to Hermione as she was the _only_ member of the order that was directly affected by the new laws. Harry was engaged to Ginny, Luna and Ron were currently enjoying their honeymoon in Iceland, even Neville Longbottom was engaged – at 24 Hermione was the only single member of The Order.

'Hermione,' Kingsley's tone was kind, 'As I'm sure you know, if you fail to find a pure blood to marry before the end of this month The Ministry will find one for you – and I have no doubt in my mind that the pure blood they assign to you will be a Death Eater. We need to find a pure blood for you to marry, who won't jeopardise your position in The Order. You're an amazing witch Hermione, we need you to be able to fight.'

Hermione nodded and gave a watery smile, 'Know any pure bloods looking for a shotgun marriage?', she quipped feebly. Nobody laughed, instead every head at the table swivelled towards Sirius Black, who smiled at her and shrugged , 'I'm game kiddo if you are.'

It was not the romantic proposal that Hermione had envisaged she would one day receive, though it was the best she could hope for. Forcing a smile, Hermione squared her shoulders resolutely 'I'm game.'


	2. Chapter 2

The Announcements Section of The Daily Prophet had trebled in size since Proclomation 2.0.2 had been passed by The Ministry of Magic. While once it contained just a few notices of deaths, births and marriages; it was now overrun by the engagement notices of Muggle-Borns to Purebloods. Hermione scanned the pages for familiar names, but try as she might to concentrate her eye was constantly drawn back to the expensive, heavily embossed, top corner of the page that declared:

_Sirius Black , son of Orion (deceased) and Walburga (deceased),_

_heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (Pureblood), - is delighted to announce his engagement to Hermione Granger (Muggle Born)._

_With The Ministry's approval Mr. Black and Ms. Granger will wed a forth-night hence,in the company of family and friends, officiated by a designated Ministry appointed official._

"_Toujous Pur"_

Hermione gave a wry smile as she considered the mockery their marriage would make of the Black family motto "Always Pure", before setting aside the paper on her bed and getting back to what she had been doing before the owl-delivered paper had arrived – namely packing.

Her bedroom was located in the attic of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and though the sloped ceilings and uneven floorboards gave it a slightly higgledy-piggledy air, it had been her home for the past four years and she would be sad to leave it and Diagon Alley which bustled with people just below her window, behind. Kingsley Shacklebot had been clear, however, that needs necessitated she relocated post haste to Grimmauld Place.

'The Ministry must approve each engagement,' he had explained to Sirius and Hermione the previous night, 'And your co-habitation would lend greatly to the story that you are madly in love'. Hermione had blushed, and blushed even more whilst Kingsley went through the finer details of Proclamation 2.0.2. A consumation-alert spell would be placed on them, and every other Pureblood/Muggle Born marriage, to ensure that the union was indeed valid. As well as this a Fidelity Spell and an unbreakable vow would be performed, meaning that their marriage would unequivocally mean until _Death do us Part_.

Hermione had stolen a glance at Sirius, his face grim and unsmiling – and wondered if perhaps marriage to a Death Eater wouldn't be easier. Since his return from behind the veil, Sirius's fame and notoriety had spread and he had set about capitalising on it by seducing a seemingly never ending conveyor belt of witches. Hermione had been too young to realise when he first returned, but four years past 18 she was now fully aware that her best friend's Godfather – now her fiance, was a playboy. A rich, handsome, playboy whose libido would be checked forever because of her.

' I understand if you want to back out Sirius,' she had cleared her throat and looked at him, but Sirius had lazily shrugged his shoulders. 'No backing out now Granger, the announcement's already been sent to The Prophet.' He looked her in the eye, his gaze comforting 'We'll be fine, don't worry kiddo,' and she had stopped worrying – temporarily.

Now, alone with her thoughts – she couldn't help but let her mind cast over the terms of their marriage, particularly the Consummation Spell. She shivered as for a moment she let herself think of Sirius, naked and lying in her bed – and how he would react when he realised she was a virgin...then stopped herself in annoyance. There would be plenty of time to deal with that when it happened, right now she needed to pack.

Determined to ignore her thoughts, Hermione set out cleaning and packing; vigorously casting all the domestic spells that Molly Weasley had taught her. Within the hour she was finished, and she looked around the clean room, noting sadly that it looked as though no-one had ever lived there - that the past four years of her life had never happened. Shrugging away the melancholy – she levitated her trunk – stuffed full of clothes, books and her prized copy of _Hogwarts a History, _and made her way downstairs to bid Fred and George goodbye.

The façade of Grimmauld Place was as imperious and uninviting as ever. Hermione – who had apparated from outside The Leaky Cauldron, climbed the front steps and knocked loudly on the door. She could hear footsteps approaching, and she braced herself as the door was opened by Sirius – face covered in stubble, shirt unbuttoned to his chest, and stinking to the high heavens of Firewhiskey.

'Honey...,' he grabbed her trunk with one hand and hauled her to his chest with his free arm. '...You're home'. Before Hermione could ask him what on earth he though he was doing, he covered her mouth with his in a deep, passionate kiss and dragged her through the door, slamming it shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

For a moment, after the door slammed, they stayed still in their embrace. Sirius's muscled arm held Hermione firmly against his chest, and his mouth had softened to a gentler kiss. Confused, Hermione began to react in kind, then quickly came to her senses and shoved him off her.

'What the hell?', she demanded in a whisper, ever conscious of the portrait of Walburga Black that lay sleeping behind heavy drapes.

'Sorry, sorry,' Sirius held up his free hand in a sign of peace. 'There's a reporter from _The Prophet, _he's been outside all day, Kingsley said to give him a show...you know to add credence to the fairy tale love story'.

Slightly mollified, Hermione absent-mindedly wiped her lips with the back of her hand, then stopped when she caught Sirius's look of annoyance.

'I'm not that repulsive am I?' he whispered, slightly hurt, as he led her down the corridor, trunk in hand towards the kitchen.

'No, but your breath tastes of Firewhiskey _and _cigarettes.' she admonished, still slightly shaken at having had her personal space invaded so thoroughly.

Sirius shrugged nonchalant. 'We've all got to die sometime,' he reasoned before throwing open the door to reveal the small group gathered within.

'Ah, Hermione, there you are,' Kingsley called from the head of the table, where Remus, Tonks and Luna Loovegood were also sitting.

'We're just organising the wedding,' Tonks said by way of explanation for the parchment strewn table as Hermione took a relieved seat beside her. 'The wedding of the heir to The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black _must _be a grandiose affair,' the metamorphmagus continued in an exasperated voice, with a dark look at Kingsley.

'Indeed it must,' as ever Kingsely's tone was low, deep and reassuring – and Hermione found herself relaxing as he explained the progress that had been made since she had left last night.

'Your Assessment interview is scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10 a.m, on the third floor in The Ministry. Umbridge herself will be personally interviewing you, so try to look in love – and sober,' he directed the comment to Sirius, who was idly refilling his glass. The Maurader grinned; 'I'm just adding to authenticity – I can pretend the hangover's from my stag-do,' he quipped.

Kingsley scowled, but continued; 'I've versed Sirius on the story you're telling – you've been having a secret affair for the past year, when Proclamation 2.0.2 was made public, you decided that it was a sign, and instantly got engaged. You couldn't bear the thought of either of you being forced to marry anyone else,' he finished dryly.

'Snape's brewed an antidote for veritaserum,' Luna added quickly, seeing the dubious look on Hermione's face.

Relieved, Hermione gave a huge grin, 'Phew – ', she glanced jokingly at Sirius, 'I doubt either of us could pull it off without it.'

Sirius just raised his eyebrows, and sullenly downed another glass of Firewhiskey – leaving Hermione to anxiously wonder if her first act as his wife wouldn't be committing him to the rehabilitation unit at St. Mungo's.


	4. Chapter 4

Sirius was rudely awoken the next morning by Remus Lupin, who angrily snatched his bed-covers from over him.

'What the f-,' he protested bleary eyed and shivering.

'What the fuck indeed,' Remus glowered at Sirius, picking up a set of robes and flinging them at his oldest friend who was struggling to get out of the ancient four poster bed. 'Hermione informed me that you passed out last night in the kitchen and she had to beg – _beg_ – Kreacher to help her put you to bed.'

'Shit,' Sirius mumbled, as he stood and pulled his robes over his head, 'Damn,,I didn't think I'd drank that much...' he trailed off, absent-mindedly rubbing the stubble on his jaw with his hand and wondering if it was Hermione or Kreacher who had undressed him the previous night.

'Well you obviously did drink that much,' Lupin let out a huge sigh. 'What's going on Sirius?' he questioned in more gentle tones; 'I thought you said you could handle it?'

Dressed now, Sirius shrugged, unable to look his friend in the eye, 'I _can _handle it, it's just hard to live with the fact that _I'm _getting what I want after all these years – but Hermione...' he trailed off.

'...Hermione doesn't want what you want.' Lupin finished for him.

Sirius nodded, still unable to meet his friend's gaze, which he was sure would be as pitying as it had been when he'd first confessed to him his feelings about Hermione - nearly four years ago.

At the time Lupin had persuaded him that it was just a mere crush; that his feelings were borne from the stress of returning from behind The Veil – that it was a kind of magically induced midlife crisis and he would only end up ruining his friendship with Hermione. Realising that his friend didn't approve, Sirius had pretended to agree; even tried to persuade himself that what he felt was just some strange transference – but as the years had passed the tender protectiveness that Hermione evoked in him grew stronger. Try as he might to distract himself with a bevy of blondes, his thoughts always returned to Ms. Granger – to her smile, her goodness and her purity.

Mouth dry from the hangover, Sirius was desperately trying _not _to think of Hermione Granger's purity, how it would be corrupted by Umbridge's new Law – and how a low down part of him was stirred by the thought that soon he would experience what he had fantasised about for so long.

Disgusted with himself Sirius let out a low groan, and banged his head against the faded floral wallpaper of his bedroom.

'Listen Sirius,' Startled by his outburst Lupin searched desperately for the words to console, 'In a way, due to the circumstances, Hermione's lucky to be marrying someone who's been in love with her for years – albeit secretly...'

'She'd be even "luckier" if she was actually marrying someone she loved back,' Sirius's tone was sarcastic as he interrupted him.

'She's be _unluckier _if she was forced to marry a Death Eater – let's not argue Sirius we'll just end up going round in circles,'Lupin reasoned. 'It's a shit situation, for you _and_ for Hermione. Especially Hermione,' he added pointedly and Sirius felt a stab of guilt. The never ending introduction of laws which restricted and at times humiliated Muggle Borns had dented Hermione's confidence and quality of life – he had no right to complain.

'You're right, I'm sorry,' Sirius conceded with a sigh; 'And thanks you know…'

'For understanding?' Lupin's eyes glimmered with a hint of mischief. 'You're a noble man Sirius – but at the end of the day you're _just_ a man – it's perfectly understandable the torture you're going through'. Slapping his friend on the back, in an awkward half, then steering him towards the door Lupin laughed 'Now that's quite enough feelings before breakfast, come on I'm starving.'

Sirius smiled and followed him out onto the corridor and down the stairs, to where the scent of frying bacon drifted from the kitchen door.

~o0o~

Sirius sat with his arm curled protectively around Hermione's shoulders, and wondered if it wouldn't be too much to quickly nuzzle into her neck. Deciding it was a good move, he proceeded to do so, inhaling her gentle scent, then revelling in the dour expression which crossed the face of Dolores Umbridge as she observed the obviously genuine display of affection.

They were seated before the inquisitors of The Muggle Born Marriage Registration Committee , which consisted of Umbridge, and a witch and a wizard from The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Arthur Weasley, who worked at The Ministry had informed them that Darius Shufflebotham who had been sequestered from his department was prepared to approve them, but Tilda Jenkings from the Improper Use of Magic Office was a wild card. Umbridge it went without saying would have vetoed them without a meeting, if it hadn't looked so suspicious to the greater magical world, which thanks to the front page of The Prophet featuring a picture of their kiss – was buzzing with excitement at the news that the infamous Sirius Black was hanging up his playboy broom forever.

'Are you finished your tea dears?' Her voice like treacle, The Minister of Magic glanced momentarily at their empty tea cups, and satisfied that they were suitably dosed with veritaserum began her inquisition.

'How long have you been romantically involved?'

'One year last month.' Hermione answered smoothly, trying to supress the giddiness that the antidote to the veritaserum was inducing – and Sirius's fingers which were playing with the tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck weren't helping.

'And why did you feel the need to conceal your relationship from your family and friends?'

'I was concerned the age difference would be held against us – and I didn't want to hear it, might have dented my ego.;' Sirius shot a wink to Tilda Jenkins who then furiously scribbled a note on the parchment before her.

'_Do _you think the age difference will be a problem?' Umbridge enquired, unable to keep the slight sneer from her tone.

'No,' Sirius shook his head, adamant. 'I may be a few years older than Hermione, but we slot together perfectly,' he moved his arm from Hermiones shoulders and reached for her hand, interlacing her fingers with his. 'We're in love,' he finished with a gentle shrug, leaning over to brush a light kiss on his "fiancé's" cheek, trying not to laugh as she blushed faintly.

Darius Shufflebotham, flamboyantly dressed in robes of cerise, gave a small coo at the endearing picture that they made causing Umbridge to glare sharply at him.

Unnerved that the truth telling potion had failed to act as she had planned, Umbridge found herself momentarily unable to continue her questioning, when Tilda Jenkins, blinking owlishly from behind her spectacles spoke; 'Does you godson approve of this relationship?' she questioned eagerly, quill hovering mid-air in readiness for her to note the answer.

'Harry approves,' Sirius intoned solemnly at the same time Hermione answered 'Of course he does' flippantly. Satisfied Tilda noted their replies.

'Unfortunately the approval for your marriage rests not with Mr. Potter, but with us,' Dolores Umbridge smiled. 'Now please,' she flicked her wand and the teapot which rested on the table flew to fill the empty tea cups which hovered before them; 'Help yourselves to more tea, as I have a great many more questions I need to ask you…'.

~o0o~

An hour later, after many questions which became increasingly more intensive, probing and intimate – not to mention two more cups of spiked tea – Sirius and Hermione had their marriage application approved at a vote of two to one.

'Can you believe she had the nerve to ask me about my menstrual cycle?' Hermione seethed, as they made their way past the security desk and into The Atrium of The Ministry.

'Never mind your menstrual whatsits, can you believe she insinuated I was too old to have properly functioning sperm?', the look of indignant outrage on Sirius's handsome face made Hermione smile.

'And treating you like you were some sort of brood mare whose only function is to breed a new generation of wizards…,' Sirius shook his head as words failed him.

They had reached the visitors exit, and as they waited for the lift which would bring them back to the seemingly innocuous phone booth on the Muggle Street above by which they had entered, Sirius reached for her hand.

'It's going to be ok Hermione,' he murmered, drawing her towards him, cupping her chin with his free hand and turning her face up to his. 'We just need to get this marriage out of the way, get rid of You-Know-Who – and then you'll be free to procreate as much or as little as you like, with whomever you like.'

Unnerved by his close proximity, and feeling dwarfed by his large, masculine frame, Hermione gave a nervous giggle, 'That's a relief – at least I won't have to bear you the five sons you claimed you wanted half an hour ago.'

Sirius laughed, and brushed the top of her head in a gentle kiss before releasing her. 'I promise you Hermione Granger – if the worst comes, and we don't win the war, I'll only ask you for four…'.

She smacked him on the arm, and laughing together they entered the lift, which would bring them back to the muggle world above, and then home.

**Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews – I really don't deserve them! IHeartBranson I'm sorry that my chapters are so short – but I don't have a beta, and I kind of tend to ramble and miss the point, so I've trained myself to keep them short. This one's a bit longer – so you can judge how I got on with it **** Any feedback, good or bad is welcome – I appreciate constructive criticism (it helps me learn…!). xx**

'


	5. Chapter 5

Madame Coûteux's Bazaar of Haute Créations was tucked away in Plenus Place, a side street off Diagon Alley which housed Twilfitt and Tattings , Carus Auctioneers Ltd. (est. 1798) and a small assortment of over-priced stalls. Given the constant state of near poverty that Hermione had lived in since leaving Hogwarts, Plenus Place was not an area she usually frequented – until today. Standing in just her underwear behind a dressing screen, Hermione listened to the debate which raged beyond, as Ginny Weasley tried to persuade Madame Coûteux that Hermione would not want to stand in front of a large group of her friends and marry Sirius whilst wearing a dress made of sheer chiffon adorned with realistic fluttering butterflies.

'But zee booter-flies they 'ide her private parts,' Madame Coûteux protested angrily.

'Barely – they _barely _hide her "private parts"', Ginny's voice rose in exasperation. ' All Hermione wants is a simple elegant dress, can you _please_ find one for her!'

A stream of French expletives followed, and Hermione poked her head around the screen to watch as the rail-thin Gallic witch sent clothes rails flying with a swish of her wand until she found a more reserved dress.

' 'Ere,' she bustled behind the screen and thrust a lace dress at Hermione,' Try zees one on.'

Hermione slipped the dress quickly over her head, and the French woman clicked her tongue in satisfaction; 'Oh oui, now I see, 'ow verrry English, you want to look virginal.' Before she could respond, Madame Coûteux shoved her out from behind the screen and onto the shop floor so that Ginny could admire her.

'Oh Hermione it's perfect,' Ginny breathed, forgetting that the dress was being purchased for a sham marriage; staring at her reflection in the mirror Hermione found she had to agree. The dress was a mini dress in the 60's style; made from antique lace it finished just above her knee with a hem of real living daisies.

'You look like a flower child,' Madame Coûteux sounded nostalgic as she stepped forward to place a simple veil which hung from a daisy-chain tiara on her head. 'But eet iz missing something. Oh!' she jumped excitedly and murmuring a charm in French transferred two of the fluttering butterflies from the chiffon "dress" to the veil, so that they hovered in mid air, supporting the veil so it floated.

'C'est Parfait!', Madame Coûteux breathed, delighted with the vision the bare footed Hermione made before her.

Realising that this was it – this was her wedding dress, Hermione thanked the dressmaker and returned behind the screen to redress. When she was clothed in her rather more practical everyday attire Hermione joined Ginny at the counter as Madame Coûteux packaged her dress and her veil.

'Oh but do you 'ave your negligée for zee wedding night?!' Madame Coûteux's head suddenly snapped up from the elaborate bow she was tying around the hat box which contained the flying veil to stare inquisitively at Hermione. Envisioning herself being paraded in front of Ginny in all manners of undress Hermione shook her head. 'I don't, but if you could just pick out something that suits the dress I'll happily take it.

Madame Coûteux gave her a saucy knowing wink and hurried into the back room, returning with what Hermione saw as ridiculously tiny paper wrapped package.

'Zere', Madme Coûteux proclaimed, dropping the package into the bag with her wedding dress, 'All done.' She came from behind the counter to embrace Hermione with a two-cheek kiss. 'And I wish you zee very best for your wedding – and your wedding night. Don't worry eet won't hurt,' she whispered the last part into Hermione's ear before releasing her, and leaving Hermione to wonder how she knew.

~o0o~

'Madame Coûteux may have completely bankrupted the House of Black' Hermione commented to Sirius as she entered the warm kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

Looking up from the parchment he was hunched over at the kitchen table Sirius gave an unconcerned,wolfish grin, 'I doubt that – I've been trying to spend all that money for years, it's impossible.' He flicked his wand so that that the chair opposite him was pulled out and indicated to it with a nod of his head. 'Sit down, relax – KREACHER' he yelled, and with a loud crack the ancient house elf was before him, rolling his eyes and muttering mutinously.

'Get a bottle of the '89 Chabblis from the cellar and some glasses,' Sirius ordered absent-mindedly adding a hasty 'Please' as he caught the disapproving look on Hermione's face.

'Sorry force of habit,' he apologised and settled back to fondly listen to one of Hermione's S.P.E.W lectures. By the time she had finished the wizened house elf had shuffled in with the wine and shuffled back out again, leaving Hermione and Sirius alone at the kitchen table sipping comfortably from their goblin cast silver goblets.

'Is that news from Kingsley?' Hermione questioned looking at the parchment which lay between them.

'Kingsley would never put anything in writing if he could shout it at you instead,' Sirius, perhaps the most recklessly brave of all The Order smiled nostalgically with experience. 'No it's from The Ministry,' he slid the parchment across the table to her, his fingers brushing hers gently as he did so. Hermione jumped slightly as his cool skin touched hers and lifted the parchment up to conceal the slight blush on her face at her foolishness.

Since their meeting with Umbridge at The Ministry nearly a week ago she had barely seen her husband to be alone, without other members of The Order present. The memory of his warm,solid embrace and his lips brushing her cheek had crept into her head constantly – though she tried to banish the thought. It would be pathetic to have a crush on the man who was being forced to marry you, she reasoned, and thanks to The Ministry her blood status had her feeling pathetic enough all ready.

Scanning the parchment before her Hermione saw that it was a detailed list of all the powers that would be entrusted to Sirius as the 'dominant' pure-blood partner in their marriage, and a brief outline and explanation of all the charms that would be performed to bind them in Ministry approved Kinship.

'Oh,' she breathed at the explanation of The Consummation Alert Charm.

_Article 3, Section 4 of Proclamation 2.0.2 : The Consummation Alert Spell is a time-constrained spell, performed by an Official Ministry Representative at The Kinship Ceremony, which will alert The Ministry if any Muggle-Born/ Pureblood marriages are not consummated within 24 hours of vows being exchanged. Such a violation of duty to the continuation of the Wizarding species will result in the wand of The Muggle Born being confiscated and destroyed, and they will be registered as persona non grata with all wand-makers (national and international)._

'It's pretty horrendous,' Sirius conceded as he watched Hermione's brow furrow in concern.

Hermione looked up; 'Horrendous isn't the word Sirius – have you read the powers you'll have over me after this?"The Muggle Born may only practice magic if their pure-blood partner deems it necessary"' she quoted, disgust on her face. 'The Muggle Born must adhere to the wisdom and wishes of their Pure Blood partner,' she continued reading from the page, then angrily tossed it on the floor with a sob. Alarmed at her tears, Sirius sprang up from his chair, and circled the table so that he was standing before her then drew her up into a comforting hug.

'Hermione, the wisdom and wishes of this pure blood wizard is for you to have all the freedom in the world - always,' he whispered gently into her ear , as he held her shaking body near.

'I know,' looking fragile and young Hermione smiled up at him through her tears, and for a mad moment Sirius wanted to bend his head to kiss away the tears which stained her cheeks. Reluctantly he released her from the crushing bear hug he had enveloped her in, and Hermione stood back and steadied her breath. 'I wanted to say thank you,' her eyes still watery, locked with Sirius's. 'For taking me and all this mess on. I know that marriage was the last thing you wanted – but you're saving me from a terrible fate Sirius, and I wanted to thank you for all that your sacrificing.'

Sensing that it might be an opportune moment to confess-some of his feelings, Sirius reached and took Hermione's hand in his. 'Hermione I wanted to tell you -', he began, but halted as the door of the kitchen was flung open.

'I'm so hungry I could eat a Hippogriff,' Ronald Weasley loudly proclaimed as he strode through the door with Harry trailing behind him. 'What?' he asked indignantly at the look of dark menace on Sirius's face.

'Nothing,' dropping Hermione's hand, and bellowing for Kreacher Sirius conceded that he'd have to find another time to try and share with Hermione some of what he felt. For now he would have to sit and listen as his godson and Ron shared their tales of the latest Chudley Cannons Quiddich match, whilst the woman he loved sat three feet away, sadly unaware that he loved her at all.


	6. Chapter 6

The hair on Nymphadora Lupin neé Tonks's head had remained a resolute grey for over a week. Charged with the not un-daunting task of organising a sham shot-gun marriage, the metamophagus had lost her usual cheery disposition, and could be found most days ensconced in a pit of despair at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place.

'Six aurors, do you think six aurors will be enough?' Hermione heard Tonks question Mundungus Fletcher as she walked towards the kitchen - home from her final shift at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

'Yeah,' Mundungus grunted acrid smoke billowing from the clay pipe which hung from the side of his mouth, clearly not listening.

'And Moly for the bouquet, what do you think?'

'Yeah, yeah...,' Scrutinising the silverware that lay polished on the table, Mundungus suddenly perked up.' Ere Tonk's you reckon this is goblin embossed silver?' He picked up a knife and held it to the evening light which shone through the the kitchen window, examining it closely.

Hermione watched from the open kitchen door with interest as Tonks's hair, seemingly of it's on volition, transformed rapidly from subdued, sleek grey to an angry, static red.

Her voice dangerously low and calm, Tonks gripped the table edge so hard her knuckles whitened. 'I don't know if it's goblin embossed, but if you're thinking of selling it down Knockturn Alley you'll have to wrench it out of your back first Fletcher.'

Startled, Mundungus hastily returned the knife to it's place on the table and stood up quickly, straightening his raggy coat.

'I don't know what's got your wand in a knot Nymp-a-dora,' he muttered, with exaggerated affront, 'But what ever it is you can handle it on yer own.' With the air of a highly aggrieved man, Mundungus nodded piously to Hermione and made his way out.

'Sorry about that Hermione,' Tonks sighed, hair once again grey as Hermione lightly replaced Mundungus in the chair opposite the other young witch. 'It's just the stress of organising the security, the guest list...the flowers – it's all too much and it's just so..sad.'

'Sad?' Hermione asked, confused at the choice of adjective.

'Yeah sad – look;' Tonks picked up her wand, moved her arm in a circular motion whilst chanting "Orchidious" and a bouquet of Moly flowers were transfigured from the end of her wand.

'It's Moly,' she said to Hermione, who recognised it from Herbology.

'It's used to ward off Dark enchantments,' Tonks continued; 'I thought that it would be a good luck symbol, the stems are black to represent Sirius and the flowers are white to represent you.'

'That's so sweet Tonks,' Hermione was touched.

'But it's all bullshit,' came Tonks's flat reply. 'It's bullshit that you have to make do with a crappy marriage you don't want – and no thoughtful bouquet is going to make that better.'

Hermione bit her lip – inclined to agree she could find no words to argue against Tonks's maudlin assessment of her current situation - "bullshit" summed it up perfectly.

' I just wish you, of all people, could have found love; you deserve it Hermione you're so...good.' Tonks smiled and Hermione squirmed.

'It's not just me you have to feel sorry for,' she countered, 'It's crap for Sirius too. He deserves love – love like you and Remus have – too. He's so...' Hermione searched for the word and settled on '...Noble.'

'Noble is it Granger? I'll have to get that in writing,' Sirius stood leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, desperately trying to hide the triumphant smile that was threatening to light up his handsome face.

'It's rude to eavesdrop,' Tonks threw her cousin a scolding look, and Sirius held up his hands – one of which held an empty bucket, in a sign of peace.

'I wasn't eavesdropping, I was simply making my way back to the kitchen after feeding Buckbeak, and heard the sound of my name.' He threw his muscular frame into the chair beside Hermione, and crossing his legs gave Tonks a pious look.

'Ok, alright, you're exonerated of all charges,' Tonks muttered with an exasperated roll of her (grey) eyes. Indicating to the sheaves of parchment which littered the oak wood table, she lay down the quill she held and gave a defeated shrug; 'That's it, it's organised – your wedding. I can do no more, I'm just one witch.'

Hermione picked up the page headed guest list, and noted one glaring absence 'Why's Harry not on here?' she questioned.

'Scrimgeour's orders,' Tonks looked apologetic; 'Instead of Harry you get Proudfoot, Savage and Dawlish. It's too high risk,' Tonks explained gently seeing Hermione's glum expression. 'The Ministry will know exactly where and when it's being held – and we don't know who they'll share that information with.

Hermione nodded, unsure why she was so upset – she wasn't even inviting her own parents as it seemed so pointless, one more person off the list wouldn't matter. Sensing her sadness, Sirius reached over and squeezed her hand with his, receiving a grateful look in return and they both sat in appreciative silence as Tonks ran through the itinerary and security detailing of their wedding, which would take place in the garden of The Burrow, much like Fleur and Bill's wedding.

'I know it's a bit much to ask Molly and Arthur to host _another _wedding, but it's the safest Order location that isn't protected by a Fidelius Charm, so I didn't die when I told The Officiator where to meet you...' Tonks gave a sarcastic cackle, before running them through the schedule of Aurors who would be keeping watch from when Hermione would arrive the next day.

'Wouldn't it be safer to arrive together?' Sirius was perplexed.

'It's bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding,' Tonks patronisingly rational explained, and neither Hermione nor Sirius sought to correct her.

'And now to the fun bit – the honeymoon!'

Hermione could only think that perhaps it was the stress of organising the whole event that had Tonks so illogically excited about a honeymoon which would involve reluctant coitus on the newlywed's part. Reluctant coitus that they had yet to discuss – so awkward was the subject between them.

'Fleur and Bill have volunteered Shell Cottage for the night,' Tonk trilled, 'And because Bill's the secret keeper there's no need for an auror watch – so you'll be alone together by the sea.' Sighing dreamily, and presumably recalling her own honeymoon with Lupin, Tonks failed to notice the awkward silence which had fallen between Hermione and Sirius.

Uncrossing and crossing his legs again, Sirius cast Hermione a searching glance, and found his fiancée turned a shade of magenta whilst staring resolutely at the floor.

'It won't be that bad,' he whispered as Hermione's eyes rose to meet his. In fact if he had his way Sirius was going to ensure that "bad" would be the last word Hermione would use to describe their wedding night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for taking so long to update – I've quit smoking and I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything (except food and general misanthropy). If there's any mistakes (well more than usual) blame it on the nicotine deprivation and my hurry to ****finally get to the part where they get to have sex (yay!). Thanks for all the lovely comments, they mean so much – I'll update soon xx**

Hermione stood nervously in Ginny's bedroom in The Burrow awaiting Arthur Weasley who would fetch her when the ceremony was due to start and walk her down the aisle. Ginny her bridesmaid, dressed in an emerald green shift dress, impatiently paced the room, occasionally peeking through the net curtains of the open window as the crowd gathered in the garden below.

'Merlin's Beard,' the red head muttered, 'What the hell is taking so long?'

Hermione shrugged; 'I don't know, I don't really care. One part of me wants this to be over as quickly as possible and the other part -' she trailed off.

' - doesn't want it to happen at all,' Ginny finished for her and walked over to embrace her friend in a comforting hug.

The previous night, in a feeble attempt at a batchelorette party, Ginny had produced a two bottles of elf wine and insisted that Hermione enjoy her last night of freedom. Emboldened by the alcohol which coursed through her veins, Hermione had shared with her for the first time that despite having had a three year, long distance relationship with Viktor Krumm she was still a virgin.

'Hymen-us intact-us,' Hermione had slurred with a bitter laugh, while her closest female friend had made soothing noises.

'It won't be that bad 'Mione,' Ginny had comforted her; 'At least you're loosing it with someone who knows what they're doing – Harry just humped my leg the first time we tried to do it...'

They descended into giggles then as Ginny gave Hermione a blow by blow account of some of her sexual misadventures with Harry, and feeling slightly less nervous Hermione had fallen into a drunken sleep.

Now however, she was shaking like a leaf. Arthur Weasley rapped on the door and poked his head around smiling.

'It's time Hermione,' he said as he reached for her hand.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot for a moment, desperately trying to think of a way to get out of her situation. _I can run away_ she thought, panicked. _I can just move to Australia and live as a Muggle until they finally track down Voldemort._

Strains of music drifted up through the window from the garden below, bringing Hermione back to reality; there would be no running away – the whole reason she was doing this was so she could help with the task of finding Voldemort.

Smiling bravely Hermione slipped her arm through Arthur's and accepted the bouquet of Molly that Ginny proffered to her.

'Right,' she took a deep breath and addressed the two Weasleys, 'Let's do this.'

~o0o~

Sirius Black stood at the top of the grand marquee that had been erected in the garden of The Burrow. Remus Lupin, his best man, stood by his side and they both shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny of the large crowd seated in rows of seats before them.

Kingsley's orders that the wedding be a grandiose affair had been carried out to the letter. Large chandeliers and garlands of gypsophilia and roses hung from the canopied roof, while Celestina Warbuck serenaded the crowd. Hiring the renowned singer for the ceremony had been Tonk's idea, a gift to Molly Weasley for the inconvenience of hosting yet another wedding.

The small, stooped officiator smade his way down the aisle to take his place, and the crowd shifted, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Hermione as the musicians struck up the wedding march.

Sirius's jaw hit the floor when he first saw her, floating towards him on the arm of Arthur Weasley. She glowed, like a bare-footed pixie; long tanned legs scandalising Aunt Muriel in her sixties mini-dress. Sirius gulped as he imagined that soon the wedding dress would be on the floor of their bedroom in Shell Cottage. He shot Hermione a grin that he hoped wasn't too wolfish as Arthur Weasley deposited her beside him, then entwined her hand in his as the officiator began the ceremony.

The guests watched in interest – for most it was the first magical wedding ceremony they had attended since Proclamation 2.0.2 had been introduced. The officiator performed the usual kinship spells first, then proceeded to bind Hermione to Sirius in charms of obedience and subservience.

'Finally, dearly beloved, before I declare Hermione and Sirius wed, I must ask that Hermione hand over her wand to her Pure-blood partner, as a sign of the relinquishment of her magical powers to him and him alone.'

Hermione took a deep breath and with reluctance handed her wand over to Sirius who pocketed it in his Tuxedo jacket with a wink.

'With the power invested in me by The Ministry of Magic, I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Black' the officiator boomed while Sirius bent his head to kiss his bride and the guests rose to applaud them. As they stood the chairs on which they had been seated vanished and the sides of the marquee disappeared to reveal the unseasonably warm spring afternoon. The marquee was to become a dance floor, with Celestina Warbuck and her band at the top, while tables and chairs appeared laden with food on the lawn surrounding it.

Sirius lead Hermione by the hand to the top table, where they sat and received the congratulations of the invited guests.

'Look in love,' Kingsley had whispered in Hermione's ear and she had dutifully complied, resting against Sirius as the long queue of witches and wizards snaked past their table to compliment the couple.

'They're right you know,' Sirius said leaning into her as the last of the guests had said their piece; 'You really are the most beautiful bride.'

Hermione rolled her eyes; 'Enough of your smooth talk Sirius Black, I was promised cake,' she replied tartly with a grin.

'Enough of your back chat Granger, I was promised obedience,' came Sirius's mischevious reply, his darks eyes dancing with merriment.

'Say that to me again when I have my wand back,' Hermione threatened laughing, and Sirius threw up his arms in a sign of defeat.

'Ok,ok, I know when I'm beat,' his handsome face still smiling, he pulled her towards him in a one armed embrace. 'But you really are the most beautiful bride,' he whispered, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

Before Hermione could reply, the wedding cake – decorated with fluttering fairies made of marzipan was brought out, and they stood together to cut it before the cheering crowd. Then the band struck up the first chords of 'Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love,' and Hermione found herself being twirled around the dancefloor in Sirius's strong arms, as Molly Weasley excitedly cried 'Oh Arthur do you remember this was the first song we ever danced to together'. Once the song had ended, the guests thronged onto the dancefloor and Hermione was separated from Sirius as Ron, Arthur then Fred and George insisted on having a dance with her.

The party was in full swing, with floating trays of champagne fuelling the guests when Tonk's made her way towards Hermione.

'Wotcher,' she grinned, drawing Hermione into a hug, 'It's time to throw the bouquet and scarper – it's nearly sunset, that's tradition.

Hermione, who had been enjoying herself jiving with Neville Longbottom gave a gulp. 'Alright,' she smiled bravely and followed Tonks to the top of the marquee where Sirius joined her.

A crowd of witches gathered, and Hermione turned her back and threw the bouquet high in the air behind her. When she turned again she saw that the bouquet had landed in Ginny's arms, and Fred was exclaiming 'But we knew that she was going to be the next one – she's been engaged to Harry for ages!'.

The guests then gathered to wave goodbye, and Sirius in a confident voice thanked them for attending.

'Now if you don't mind,' he finished with a roguish grin, 'My bride and I would like to leave for our honeymoon.'

Wolf whistles and applause rang out, and a red faced Hermione took Sirius's hand as he apparated to the garden of Shell Cottage.

A gentle sea breeze caressed Hermione's bare legs as she steadied herself as the arrived, Sirius's hand still clasping hers. Her mouth dry, Hermione looked up at him and was about to speak when he covered her mouth gently with his, in a kiss that started tenderly but became more demanding. He drew her towards him, hands roving her body whilst trailing hungry kisses down the soft, exposed flesh of her neck.

Hermione gave a moan of pleasure, and the noise brought Sirius back to reality; he broke away from her, breathing heavily and cast her a rueful grin. 'Sorry, couldn't help myslef,' his eyes were dark with hunger as he grinned down at her. Then to her surprise he lifted her into his strong arms and carried her across the threshold of Shell Cottage and up the stairs where their bedroom awaited.


	8. Chapter 8

Fleur had decorated the bedroom with hundreds of candles, which twinkled in old jam jars and cast a warm glow on the couple. White linen curtains fluttered in the light breeze that came through the open window, and the sound of waves crashing on the not too distant shore was the only sound to be heard. Sirius noticed none of this though; his only thought was of Hermione's warm body which was cradled in his strong arms.

He crossed the room swiftly, ignoring his head which cried out for him to slow down, and deposited Hermione gently on the soft white linen of the bed. He shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and with a low growl he lowered himself onto the bed, so her body was pinned beneath his then her caught her lips in a searing, demanding kiss.

His hands roamed her body urgently, stroking and caressing her through the thin lace of her wedding dress.

'This won't do,' Sirius's said in a low voice and reached for his wand. Hermione heard him mutter 'vestes deponeret', and to her surprise her dress vanished, leaving her near naked in the bra and knickers Madame Coûteux had provided her with.

'Fucking hell,' Sirius leaned back and his voice shook with desire as his eyes roamed her body. Bashful Hermione made to cover her breasts, visible through the sheer lace of her bra, with her hands, but Sirius caught them with a disapproving shake of his head.

'Oh no you don't,' he breathed.

He leaned forward, pinning her arms to the bed above her head with one strong arm, whilst his free hand softly stroked her warm body. Hermione felt light headed; his mouth was trailing teasing, soft kisses down her neck, while his free hand lazily circled the soft flesh of her breast through the gauzy material of her bra, nearly but never quite touching her nipple.

She let out a moan of protest as his fingers lightly brushed but never quite soothed the ache she felt. She wriggled under the vice like pressure that held her arms down, but finding she was no match for his strength she settled for simply arching her back to press her breasts against his chest, and wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him towards her.

'Someone's eager,' his breath tickled her ear momentarily, before his mouth traced kisses softly down her neck, until finally reaching the hard nub of her nipple which he sucked hungrily through the thin material.

Hermione gave a soft moan, wriggling her hands free from under him and greedily letting them roam his chest, tugging the buttons of his shirt open. He leaned back for a moment to shrug it impatiently to the floor, and she marvelled at his broad shoulders and the light dusting of black hairs that trailed down his muscular, lean stomach and disappeared beneath his trousers.

With a shaky breath, still pinned beneath him, Hermione reached for his belt buckle and slowly undid the clasp that held it together. Sirius stilled above her as he felt soft curious hands undo the flies of his trouser, and timidly stretch the elastic of his boxers until they found what they were searching for within. He gave a throaty, animal growl as she circled the shaft of his rock hard penis with her hand and breathed wondrously at its size.

'Sirius I don't think that will fit,' Hermione whispered, startled by the girth and length, and the soft silk like feel of his hard erection.

He gave a bark of laughter, and shook the strands of dark out of his eyes,so he could gaze down at her sweet face.

'It will,' his voice was firm and confident, and he reached for his wand again to remove the last pieces of material which separated them.

Hermione gave a gasp, unsure how they had progressed so quickly from the garden of The Burrow to complete unabashed nudity in the bed in Shell Cottage, but not wanting him to stop. Warm hands weighed her breasts thoughtfully, rubbing calloused thumbs across aching nipples, before trailing across the soft flesh of her abdomen and dipping into the softer flesh of her thighs.

Sirius took a shuddering breath, as his fingers softly dipped into the warm, wet heat of Hermione's very core. His erection was pressed painfully against her thigh, and when his fingers softly rubbed her clit and she arched her back in demand, he knew that he could wait no more.

He lifted her lightly like a rag doll, and positioned himself so that he was between her thighs, with the head of his penis softly rubbing the heat of her outer folds.

He leaned forward once again pinning her arms above her head with his own, then with a kiss he thrust into her searing heat.

'Oh shit,' Hermione gave a small yelp of pain as Sirius filled her.

He paused, still inside her and looked down at her in astonishment.

'Hermione are you a virgin?', his breathing was ragged, his voice incredulous.

'Well I was,' came Hermione's muffled reply from beneath him.

'Oh God,' Sirius gave a low moan of guilt and made to withdraw from her, but Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around his waist to stop him.

'No,' she breathed, shaking her head stubbornly, 'It's fine...I just need to get used to the size of you.'

She gave him a timid smile from beneath thick eyelashes, and with a groan Sirius lowered his head to trace her lips in a tender soft kiss.

After a few moments, when she adjusted to the tight feeling of him filling her, Hermione began rocking her hips, demanding friction.

Sirius obliged, and he gently began to thrust. Heady emotions ran through his brain, as Hermione gave low moans of pleasure and began to shake as an orgasm began to build – but the overwhelming feeling he had was one of triumph; she was his and his alone. He thrusted deeper, and she gave a small scream as her pussy contracted, gripping his penis inside her. Assured by her whimpering pleasure he let go with an agonised growl, and released himself into her - overwhelmed by a possessive, primal desire to make her his in every way.

For a moment afterwards they lay as they were, both shaken and jelly limbed from the experience, Sirius lifted his weight from her body and moved so he was lying behind her, throwing one arm over her protectively.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered into her ear,' I'm sorry if I hurt you – you should have told me...'

Hermione shrugged and gave a contented yawn; ' It's ok - it was worth the pain,' she sighed happily and her breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm.

Softly stroking her hair Sirius watched her for a few minutes as she slumbered, before a heavy limbed exhaustion overcame him; his last thoughts before he succumbed to sleep were of how he could make his new wife fall in love with him so they could stay like this forever.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione was the first to wake the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window momentarily disorientating her. She stretched yawning, and as she did so the thin sheets fell away and she realised that she was completely naked. Naked and in bed with Sirius, who - from the looks of things - wasn't wearing much himself.

All at once memories of the night before came flooding back to her, and a cascade of emotions overtook her. Embarrassment, guilt, fear...desire. Hermione was shocked at her reaction to Sirius' touch the night before– she had never felt such wanton need. And yet, in the cold hard light of the morning, uncertainty overtook her. Had he felt the same way? Or was it merely a pity fuck to legalise what was essentially a pity marriage?

Cringing slightly in mortification, Hermione became aware of the sensation of stickiness between her legs, and looking down she realised that there were small smears of blood on her thighs. Evidence of her now defunct virgin status. Quietly, so as not to wake her slumbering husband, she slipped from the bed and tiptoed quietly to the bathroom to wash away her growing shame.

The sound of the noisy old pipes of Shell Cottage feeding into the shower were what woke Sirius. His body hummed pleasantly from the previous nights activities and he reached out an arm across the bed to draw Hermione to him, only opening his eyes when he found that he was grasping at air. 'Oh', he muttered, surprised at the slight hurt he felt. His dreams had involved very detailed images of how he would continue with Hermione's initiation into lovemaking, and to find her absent from his bed threw a very large spanner into the works. Irritated, he rose from the bed and conjured a pair of low slung tracksuit bottoms which he threw on before padding down the hallway to knock on the bathroom door.

'Hermione?' he called, testing the handle of the door to find it was locked, and a startled squeak was the reply.

'I'm just having a shower Sirius, I'll be out in a minute', Hermione's voice sounded panicked and the Marauder felt his plans – among other things – deflate.

'I'll just be in the kitchen,' he called, all thoughts of a soapy reunion completely washed down the drain.

He made his way to the tiny kitchen of Shell Cottage, whose windows looked down to the beach, where grey waves lapped against the shore under a drizzly April sky. Irritable he took out his wand and set about making a pot of tea for Hermione and a strong black coffee for himself. He felt embarrassed now at his previous ideas that this honeymoon would involve a lot more sex. The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became with himself for being so stupid and it was a grumpy, chain smoking Sirius that greeted Hermione a few minutes late as she strolled into the kitchen dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a tshirt.

'There's tea in the pot', Sirius muttered, nodding towards the stove where a steel kettle hummed cheerfully.

'Oh,' Hermione shot him a nervous look, 'Thanks...'

She scrambled awkwardly around the kitchen, looking for cups and milk, aware that her new husband was glowering at her.

'Did you sleep well?' she ventured, as she sat down across from him and Sirius shrugged. 'Yeah, well enough,' he replied gruffly, before adding as a seemingly disinterested afterthought 'You?'.

'Yeah fine...' Hermione lowered her gaze to the cup she cradled in her hand. This was worse than she expected – Sirius seemed to outright dislike her this morning. She had expected awkwardness maybe – but for him to seem to resent her so much already was humiliating.

Worse still, her stomach grumbled and Shell Cottage being a wizards home meant there was no way to cook anything without a wand. Puce with humiliation shehe cleared her throat awkwardly, 'Sirius?'

Sirius looked up.

'Could I have my wand back?'

He could feel his face fall in dismay as she spoke the words, how could he have been so callous?

'Of course,' Sirius flicked his own wand, 'Accio Hermione's wand,' and the wand came flying down the stairs into his outstretched hand. 'Here,' he proffered it to her, gruff in his embarrassment. 'I totally forgot Hermione...sorry'. She gave him a sad smile.

'Don't be sorry Sirius,' she said as she took the wand from him, her hand at once feeling whole. 'You've already done so much for me. About last night...'

He looked up.

'Thank you.'

'For what?' Sirius gave a woolfish if slightly bashful smile.

'For making it so easy. I was so nervous -'

'Stop right there Hermione,' he cut her off with a wave of his hand. 'I'll not have you saying thank you for last night. A million men would fight a million dragons to get to do what I did...what we did...' He trailed off awkwardly, Merlins beard this was awkward.

'I just mean, it wasn't that much of a chore...if you know what I mean?'

Hermione snorted into her teacup, 'Um, thanks. I do know what you mean - it was nice. Much less excruciatingly embarrassing than I thought it would be.'

She gave him a cheeky smile and Sirius gave her a dry, withering glare.

'I'll thank you not to spread that review of my bedroom skills around Ms. Granger – "not embarrassing" – Christ I have a reputation to uphold.'

'I'm sorry,' she laughed at his mock outrage, 'If anyone asks I'll tell them I was in so much ecstasy I saw stars.' She smiled but was startled to see that his expression as he gazed over at her was now slightly serious.

'Did you?' he asked in a low, loaded tone – and Hermione was now aware that her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, as her now husband leaned forward the muscles of his arms and shoulders clearly outlined, his gaze almost predatory.

Her mouth dry, she made a slight noise that could have been a yes or a no – but Sirius was not to find out – as a furious tapping at the window jolted them from their exchange.

'Oh it's an owl,' with a feeling that was either relief or regret – she couldn't decide, Hermione leapt from her chair to the window to let Hedwig in.

'Oh,' she gave a startled cry and Sirius reached over to pluck the letter from her hand.

_Attack on The Burrow, all ok. Please return to Headquarters as soon as possible._

'Shit,' Sirius gave her a rueful look, 'Guess we'd better cut the honeymoon short.'


	10. Chapter 10

The weeks that followed the wedding were busy ones for The Order. A spate of Death Eater attacks across the country had left the wizarding world in a state of fear. The Daily Prophet, now nothing more than a propaganda tool for Voldemort reported little except to occasionally blame the larger attacks that couldn't be hidden, as random acts of Muggle Born wizard violence. Mr. Weasley reported back about high levels of paranoia amongst the Ministry staff and Hogwarts, under the rule of Professor Snape had expelled all Muggle Borns.

'We must bide our time, as Voldemort is,' Kingsley counselled as The Order gathered as a whole at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place.

'All the horcruxes, bar Nagini and Voldemort himself have been destroyed. We must wait until he attacks and then one of us must try to finish him off.'

'It's going to be me,' Harry said, resolute and stony faced.

'It will be anyone who has the opportunity,' Kingsley corrected him. 'Now tell me,' he turned to Hermione, 'About this letter you've received?'

Hermione, still bearing bruises from a particularly nasty encounter with a Death Eater in Midas Vale cleared her throat.

'Apparently all of the recent marriages by Pure Bloods to muggle borns are to be evaluated by a ministry official...' she trailed off, her face wan and glum.

The past month had been the most horrific of her twenty-two years. Sirius, who had once been both a source of friendship and minor irritation, had morphed into an overly solicitous stranger. The night of the wedding had not been mentioned, and he now no longer teased her mercilessly – in fact he barely spoke to her. When she was not out with the Order, Hermione spent her days floating aimlessly around the cavernous rooms of Grimmauld Place, wondering if she could confide her growing fear to Sirius, and how he would react when she did.

'Evaluated how?' Kingsley cut across her thoughts and she shrugged her shoulders – she was exhausted and dealing with a much bigger worry than Dolores Umbridge.

'I don't know, apparently Sirius and I are the first to be called in. Arthur hasn't been able to find out anything from his sources, and he can't ask too much or it might look suspicious.

'Well Snape has brewed some Veritaserum for you in case Umbridge trys anything again. Sirius,' the Order leader looked across to where the younger man sat.

'You'll have to stick to every rule in proclamation 2.2. Carry Hermione's wand on your person, act like you've been dictating every spell she's cast.'

'What about priori incantatum?' Sirius questioned, shifting his large frame in the chair. He hated Order meetings – too much talking about action, not enough doing.

'I've already got it covered,' Hermione spoke to him from where she sat at the opposite end of the table. 'I've spent the last three days doing nothing but Household spells. Thanks for noticing,' she added as a dry aside and Sirius felt his lips twitch with a smile.

'I just thought Kreacher had finally remembered he had a vocation to clean,' he replied, delighted by the flash of irritation across Hermiones face.

' 'Ere,' Mundungus cackled loudly, speaking for the first time during the meeting, 'Whas' the difference between a housewife 'nd a houseelf?'

Sirius felt his face fall in horror.

'...A housewife will fu-'

'Dung,' Molly cut him off with an almighty wallop to the back of the head. 'Watch your mouth.'

An awkward silence fell across the group for a moment, and Sirius could feel Lupin staring at him intently, while Hermione pointedly avoided looking at him at all.

'I'll have a few bodies stationed in The Ministry tomorrow,' Kingsley spoke, breaking the silence. 'I 'ope we don't have use them though. We can't afford to break our cover. So look in love you two.' With a flourish of his brightly coloured robes he was gone, and the meeting was ended.

'I'm nervous,' Hermione whispered as she stood with Sirius in a second floor corridor in the Ministry the next day.

'No need to be,' he gave her hand a squeeze, and considered her pale appearance. The past month had been torturous for him. He had spent it in constant battle with his conscience and his libido – pleasantly surprised that his conscience always won, he must be growing up. He had treated Hermione with Dragon-kid gloves, afraid of upsetting her in any way, and had pointedly gone out of his way to avoid being alone with her. This marriage was one of convenience, he kept reminding himself, it wasn't meant as a vehicle for his dishonourable intentions. He closed his eyes for a second as the memory of Hermione writhing beneath him flashed across his minds eye, then opened them with a snap, as an underling of Umbridge's called them into the interview room.

'Mr. And Mrs. Black', Dolores Umbridge didn't stand as they entered, merely gestured to a pair of seats in front of her desk.

'Dolores,' biting back bile Sirius flashed a killer grin at the Minister. 'We didn't expect such a high-powered Ministry Official like yourself to be interviewing us.'

'Well the Ministry takes the matter of Blood Purity very seriously Mr. Black,' the toad like woman replied with a sickening smile. 'Now let's see how the ewly-weds are getting on?'

Dolores snapped her fingers and a ministry worker stepped forward, ' Snicktus, please take Mrs. Blacks wand from her husband to be examined'. The grim faced little man stretched out a hand to Sirius, who reluctantly handed the wand over to him, noting as he did the look of nausea on Hermione's face. The poor girl, Sirius thought as Snictus left the room, feeling his anger swell.

'So tell me Mr. Black,' Umbridge continued, barely glancing at Hermione. 'How much does blood purity mean to you?'

'Everything,' Sirius replied through gritted teeth, looking to Hermione for help, and feeling alarmed when he noticed that she still looked terribly ill.

'Really? Because word has reached the Ministry that many of the marriages that have recently taken place have been nothing more than shams. And your marriage,' Umbridge looked him up and down disparagingly,' Seems like the biggest sham of all. Why would a girl want to marry a man twice her age?'

'Because we're in love', again Sirius spoke through gritted teeth.

'Really,' Dolores laughed her high pitched giggle. 'Look at her,' she gestured to Hermione, pale and silent before her. 'She looks positively ill, not in love. Why should I believe that your marriage honours the spirit of Prolomation 2.2 – which if you remember is to ensure the continuity and purity of the Wizarding World?'

Sirius floundered for a moment, thinking of an answer, but before he could speak a soft voice cut across him.

'Because I'm pregnant,' Hermione whispered, before throwing up on the floor in front of a shocked Umbridge and Sirius.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi, thanks so much for all the reviews, they really mean a lot! Feel free to P.M me if you think I'm going the wrong way with the story – I'd love to have someone to reign in my farfetched daydreams! I've kept this one quite short as I'd really like feedback on Sirius's whole macho power trip thing...kind of like the idea of playing with that for a while xxx**

The ancestral home of The Black's was for once empty. Sirius ducked his head quickly into the kitchen, just to be sure there were no Order members quietly lurking, before returning to the library where he had deposited an exhausted Hermione on their return from The Ministry.

'Fucking hell Granger,' he exhaled deeply as he sat down on the chaise lounge beside her. A puff of dust erupted from the faded blood red velvet as he did so, and Sirius made a mental note to take Kreacher to task once more about his lack of commitment to cleaning anything other than the portrait of Mrs. Black, which still hung stubbornly in the entrance hall.

'I know,' Hermione looked at him with frightened eyes. When she had proclaimed to Umbridge that she was pregnant it had merely been a fear; the absent period, the nausea – she had spent the last week wishing that they were merely signs of stress. A Healer had been called from St. Mungo's however, and it was quickly confirmed that 'Mrs. Black' was indeed carrying the future heir to the Black Family legacy, and Hermione's heart had plummeted.

'What are we going to do Sirius?' she whispered. He had taken her hand and was caressing its palm soothingly with his thumb, but he stopped, surprised, when she spoke.

'What do you mean what are we going to do?' he questioned, a little sharply.

'I mean,' Hermione's voice rose in panic, and irritation – how could he not see what an awful situation this was? 'What are we going to do? I can't have this baby Sirius.'

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. 'What do you mean you _can't_ have this baby? You're pregnant Hermione, there's not much you can do about it.' Sirius knew where her thoughts were heading, but he was determined to block them off.

'There are doctors,' she spoke so softly, that at first Sirius wasn't sure if she had spoken at all. '-Muggle doctors,' she continued, her voice growing more calm, more assured. 'They can make it go away...it's just a tablet. It's not really anything yet...just a bunch of cells'

'You mean an abortion?' Sirius was sure that his voice was angrier and louder than it had any right to be, but he didn't care – was she really thinking of getting rid of his baby?

'You can't do it,' he stated firmly; he knew he was being high handed, but she was being ridiculous.

'Sirius I _have_ to,' Hermione repeated, 'I can't do this. I can't bring a baby into this mess we're in – it's bad enough just the two of us. How can we inflict this on a child?'

'We won't be inflicting anything on the child Hermione. It will be loved – by me at least.' He cast her a dark glare, then his gaze softened – she was afraid, that was all it was.

'I'm going to have a termination Sirius,' Hermione was resolute, her face taking on the stubborn look it always did when she thought that she was right.

Silence fell between them; the strange male pride that Sirius had felt since the Healer from St. Mungo's had confirmed that Hermione was indeed pregnant was being replaced by a simmering anger. He tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm himself down, but he couldn't. With a cool gaze he stared down his wife, who was gazing back defiantly at him.

'No you're not Hermione,' he spoke slowly, 'Because I forbid you to'.

With all the powers of Proclamation 2.2, he thought wryly to himself as his 'wife' cast him a disgusted look and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.


	12. Chapter 12

'You did what?' A look of incredulity accompanied Remus Lupin's sharp tone and Sirius winced slightly at both.

'I forbid her...' he mumbled, shame-faced, unable to look his friend in the eye.

The pair were sat in a small snug in The Leaky Cauldron, tucked away from view of the few customers who still ventured out in these troubling times for a pint of mead from Tom, the innkeeper.

'Merlin's Beard,' Lupin shook his head in disbelief again. 'You couldn't have even humoured her a bit until the shock had worn off? Pretended that she still has the right to bodily autonomy? Not that she does now, not with the articles they've added to 2.2', he finished glumly referring to the revisions the Ministry's Blood Purity Committee had added to the Marriage Law Legislation.

Muggle borns who had entered into marriage with wizards of pure blood status were now required to have conceived (or in the case of men, aided the conception of) a baby, within three months of their marriage. Those who didn't were to be immediately sent to Azkaban, for treason to the wizarding race, whilst the pure-blood partner would be pardoned and allowed to remarry.

'It's fucking genocide,' Sirius whispered furiously, ' What happens when they start randomly assigning muggle borns to marry Death Eaters?'

'The Death Eater refuses to even consummate the marriage,' Lupin replied, 'And the poor muggle born gets shipped straight off to the dementors – all under the guise of bureaucracy of course. That's what's so chilling, that this is all legal.'

He gave a little shudder and glanced nervously around at the other customers, Doris Crockford was propped up heavily against the bar, chatting animatedly at Tom, while the other patrons were much like him and Sirius; keeping to themselves.

'Does anyone else know?' Lupin questioned, and Sirius shook his dark head. 'No, she hasn't spoken to me since it happened, but Kreacher delivered a message on her behalf forbidding me to speak of it to anyone until she's ready.' Sirius gave a bark of laughter at Lupin's confused expression.

'It's the weirdest thing' he explained to his bemused friend, ' But Kreacher seemed to sense straight away that Hermione was – you know...And he's taken to completely worshipping her. My mother always wanted someone to continue on the family line, she was obsessed. So I suppose Kreacher thinks Hermione is some sort of messiah.'

Lupin gave a soft chuckle at the house elf's change of attitude, and took a sip of his pint while Srius allowed his thoughts to wander as both friends slipped into easy silence. It had been a hellish few days since his altercation with Hermione, and he was exhausted from trying to process everything. He was ashamed of how he had spoken to Hermione, and wished he could take it back – but a secret part of him had been delighted when The Prophet had arrived that morning, heralding the revisions to Proclamation 2.2. Even if he, like Hermione, had wanted to get rid of the baby – they couldn't, it was there in black and white _'destruction (medical or magical) of an unborn wizard will result in instant death for the muggle-born partner and life imprisonment in Azkaban for the pure-blood'._

There would be no more discussion about getting rid of the baby it seemed, but, he glumly reflected, with Hermione still not talking to him there would be no more discussions at all.

~o0o~

Hermione was safely encased in the apartments of the late Whalburga Black, on the top floor of Grimmauld Place. The large bay windows looked out onto the small park which made up the 'square' and the neighbouring houses, which were shabby even in the forgiving dusk light. The day that she had slammed the door on Sirius she had walked straight into Kreacher who had dropped into a low bow.

'My mistress must not be upset,' he had simpered to a confused Hermione. 'We must not upset the baby,' he elaborated excitedly. Gobsmacked a startled Hermione had been bustled up the stairs by the unusually attentive house elf, and brought to these still grand rooms which had previously been hidden behind doors which had resisted anyone's attempt to open them.

Unlike the rest of the house, Kreacher had maintained his old mistress's room to the highest of standards, and his newly developed loyalty to Hermione meant that he would continue to maintain them as she saw fit – and her first request (not order) had been for him to keep Sirius out. So for the past few days, she had fumed alone, angry at her autocratic 'husband' and desperately confused by the predicament she found herself in.

As the moon finally appeared and night fell, Hermione moved from where she stood, staring out onto the deserted Islington square and let her glance rest on the letter from St. Mungo's which lay on her bed, beside that day's edition of The Daily Prophet.

It seemed that she now had even less of a choice about what she would do. She sighed heavily, and let her hand rest for a moment against her stomach. It was still as flat as it had ever been – flatter actually as she could keep nothing down but tea. A part of her was secretly excited, she had always wanted a baby – but not like this, not in the middle of a war and not with a man who didn't love her. He barely even respected her it seemed. How dare he, she raged for the millionth time, forbid me from doing anything – he was no better than a Death Eater. And it was so confusing, since when had Sirius cared so much about having children? He'd slept with hundreds of women before her, he'd had plenty of opportunity to get someone else pregnant.

With an irritated shake of her bushy head, Hermione brushed away her thoughts and looked at the letter she had received from St. Mungo's; she was required to attend a scan – and so was the pure-blood father, by order of The Ministry. It seemed, that wish as she might, Hermione couldn't hide away in the apartments of Whalburga Black for the next nine months and pretend this wasn't happening.

~o0o~

'Don't', Hermione hissed softly as Sirius made to take her hand the next day, as they stood outside Purge and Dowe's, the 'abandoned' department store which disguised the entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital for wizards.

'I'm just trying to look authentic,' Sirius hissed back, irritated. He had spent the whole journey here pleading for forgiveness, but had been met with only icy glares from Hermione.

'Well what can be more authentic than an angry hormonal pregnant woman sniping at her husband?' Hermione replied tartly as they both stepped through the stores window display and into the reception area.

'Fifth Floor, Maternity,' the Welcome Witch said dismissively after reading the letter that Hermione had handed her. Without a backwards glance Hermione had headed straight for the stairs, leaving Sirius to trail dejectedly behind her.

'Will you just please, listen to me?' he snapped as they made their way up the stairs.

'Is that a request or an order?' Hermione replied snippily, out of breath as they finally reached the fifth floor.

Duly chastised, Sirius decided to give up for the moment – he had made some progress he reasoned, at least she was talking to him.

The maternity floor of St. Mungo's was quiet, and a Midi-witch, in starched white robes directed them to a waiting room at the end of the corridor. In silence they entered, only to be greeted by a pair of familiar faces.

'Luna!' Hermione gasped in shock.

'Hello Hermione, Sirius,' the blonde witch replied in a serene voice, while Ron glanced between Hermione and Sirius in shock.

'Are you here for your first scan too?' Luna continued in her sing song voice, oblivious to the searching looks which passed between her new husband and his best friend.

'Yes, first scan,' Hermione admitted, with a 'don't ask' glare at Ron. 'Congratulations,' she continued to an obviously glowing Luna.

'The first Weasley grandchild,' Ron said with a broad smile across his face. Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing – she couldn't tell if Ron was more excited about the baby or finally getting to be the 'first' Weasley after years of following after his brothers.

'I'm sure Molly will be thrilled,' Sirius gave Ron a hearty slap on the back as he sat down beside him. An awkward silence followed, and Hermione could see the cogs whirring away in Ron's brain, as he deliberated on what would be the most appropriate reply to a couple who had conceived out of duty.

'Weasley', Ron was saved by a stern Midi-witch, clipboard in hand, who gestured to the couple to follow her. With an excited laugh, Luna grabbed her husband's hand and dragged him after her.

'Well that's the cat out of the bag,' Sirius gave a low whistle of shock.

'They're so happy,' Hermione, forgetting she wasn't speaking to Sirius, replied and he looked over to see tears welling up in her eyes.

'Oh come here,' he said gruffly and moved to sit next to her, taking her hand in his.

'I know this isn't perfect,' he began, ignoring the snort of derision that erupted from the mother of his child, 'But it's happening. And it's going to be fine Hermione. I swear, on the grave of Albus Dumbledore, that I will look after and protect you and this baby until the day that I die.'

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and gave a small prayer of thanks to the God of Hormonal Pregnant Women when she didn't snatch it away.

Maybe everything would be ok.


	13. Chapter 14

Hi, thanks so much for all the lovely comments. Sorry for taking so long to get back to it!xx

~o0o~

Even though she had seen the small flicker of the baby's heart during the scan, there was still a part of Hermione that didn't believe the pregnancy was actually happening. The news of her conception had obviously been spread by Ron and Luna, but the Order members who floated in and out of Grimmauld Place over the next few days were discreet enough not to mention it. Her morning sickness had subsided, and her stomach was still flat – everything was exactly has it had been...except.

'Ow', Hermione winced slightly as she leaned forward to examine an old battered text on runes.

'You alright?' Sirius, who had been keeping her company in the library of Grimmauld Place, was instantly alert.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his chivalry. 'I'm fine,' she muttered, absentmindedly rubbing her chest, 'I just knocked myself off the table.'

Sirius' dark eyes which had been watching her anxiously, now momentarily slipped to her chest, and Hermione felt her face flush with heat. Everything was the same – except her breasts. They'd never been something she'd thought about; they were there, they were small, they didn't get in the way...This morning however she had awoken to find that they had nearly tripled in size, and were so sensitive that she could barely tolerate wearing a bra.

'Well let me know if you need a hand.'

Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought she saw the faint traces of a smirk on Sirius' face. Letting out a deep sigh, she returned her attention to the text in front of her. The atmosphere between her and Sirius had cleared, there was no need to start another fight.

Sirius cast her a sideways look, still desperately trying to hide the smirk on his face as Hermione sighed loudly in disapproval. He was seated on the couch, allegedly trying to fix the clock from the kitchen, which hadn't worked since he was a young child. Instead however, he kept finding his gaze distracted by his pregnant wife, who sat cross legged on the floor, leaning over the coffee table, idly massaging her breasts while she poured through some dusty tomb. She moved slightly to stretch and as she did so she caught his gaze, and flushed bright red.

'Sorry,' he muttered by way of apology, a sheepish grin on his handsome face, 'They've just you know...sprung out of nowhere.'

Beet red, Hermione gave him a haughty look and with a small 'Harrumph', returned to her reading. Her mind was distracted however, and after a few moments her own gaze slid over to where Sirius sat, sprawled out on the couch. Really, she thought in irritation, it was obscene how much space he took up. He lifted his white-tshirt slightly to scratch his toned stomach, and Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the sight of the line of dark hair that trailed from his naval to disappear below his belt buckle...

'Excuse me who's staring now?', there was definite smirk on Sirius' face, and Hermione bristled in irritation.

'I wasn't staring,' she glowered at him, ' I was just thinking that you've far too much time on your hands. Don't you have anything better to do than try fixing that damned clock?'

Srius shook his head slowly, his eyes dancing with mischief. 'As a matter of fact, no I've nothing better to do...and don't lie to me Hermione, that's not what you were thinking.'

Hermione felt herself flush once more, both in irritation and something else - some prickly, gnawing feeling that was both delicious and a torture at the same time.

'Yes it was,' she muttered mutinously, casting him her coldest glare.

But Sirius was not to be deterred, and he rose gracefully from his seat and padded softly towards her. He hunkered down, on strong thighs, so that his face was right next to hers and grinned wickedly.

'I know you're lying Hermione,' he whispered, and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat, as he continued, 'Tell me what you're thinking.'

'I want to scratch my nails across your stomach,' the words were snatched from Hermione's lips, by the marriage spell that bound her to obedience, and she gave a mortified cry.

'That's not fair Sirius,' she made to whack him forcefully on the chest, but he easily caught her arm in a strong but gentle grip.

His breathing quickened, and he looked at her with eyes that were almost black with lust.

'Tell me what else you want to do,' he whispered against her ear, as with one smooth movement he manoeuvred his body so that it was positioned over hers, and she found herself lying on the carpeted floor.

'I want you to massage my breasts,' Hermione whispered, half mortified – unsure now if she was supplying the information voluntarily or if it was the spell. She was hot, and wet and panting slightly and had never wanted anything more than to feel his hands on her body.

'Like this?' he asked, dropping a gentle kiss on her lips, before snaking his hand up her t-shirt, so that he was softly caressing her breast through her bra. Hermione gave a small moan, and wriggled underneath him.

'Take it off,' she whispered, and with his free hand he waved his wand and whispered 'vestes deponeret', so that her bra, beneath her tshirt, simply disappeared.

His hands slowly circled the sensitive skin of her breasts, and his head bent to claim her mouth in a searing kiss. Slowly, slowly his fingers circled the skin around her nipples, teasing, brushing across them lightly, but never quite relieving the ache that she felt.

'Merlin's beard, Sirius,' she moaned, after a few minutes of this, and she hastily wriggled from beneath him and whipped her tshirt off. With an urgency she had never felt before she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down towards her. His eyes lit up, and without having to be asked he bent his head, to finally claim a nipple with his mouth.

'Oh God,' Hermione gave a small cry of relief, and allowed her hands to wander across his body, and he kissed his way across her skin, from one nipple to the other. Moving her way down slowly, until she reached his jeans and felt his hardness, straining against the fabric.

'Fuck me Sirius,' she whispered, arching her back and wrapping her legs around his waist.

'Are you sure?' he crocked an eyebrow, and she gave him an irritated stare.

'Of course I'm sure, ' she whispered as her hands hastily began to unbuckle his belt. Sirius gave a low groan as her soft hands reached inside and genty began to stroke the shaft of his cock.

'Vestes deponeret,' he whispered again, grabbing his wand and suddenly they were both naked, lying on the carpet of the library.

'You're sure?he asked again as he positioned himself between her legs, the head of his cock softly brushing against her wetness. Hermione didn't answer, merely arched against him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing his mouth towards hers.

Taking this as confirmation, Sirius plunged into her, letting out a soft curse as he did so.

'Fuck, Hermione you're so wet,' he whispered in her ear between kisses, as he moved slowly inside her. She gave a soft laugh, and place her hands on his firm ass, drawing him in deeper, urging him to go faster. Her clit hummed as he moved steadily inside her, and she could feel her muscles contracting.

'Don't stop,' she whispered, drawing him deeper inside her again, as finally the pleasure building inside her peaked, and she came hard. Sirius let out a low growl as he felt the rhythmic waves of her pussy, clenching his throbbing cock – and with one final, deep, searing stroke he emptied himself inside her.

Their breath was ragged, and he stayed inside her for a moment, lying on the floor, softly stroking her face.

'Oh Hermione,' he whispered, dropping a soft kiss onto her lips. Where do they go from here?


End file.
